


The Corpse She Left Behind

by PostPrincessPiaP



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Vampire Romance Fic, F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Like, Sadness, just awful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:43:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostPrincessPiaP/pseuds/PostPrincessPiaP
Summary: What's the harm of a little curiosity between hunter and prey, in these brief final moments when between the tip of the stake and a cold dead heart?





	The Corpse She Left Behind

Here they were, clutching each other tightly, teeth to neck, stake to chest, in the evening quiet. There was no rain or thunder or storm, not tonight. Not even a howling wind. Just the chirps of crickets, the breeze rustling leaves and flowers. There were a lot of flowers, in Castle DeThaum.

“So this is it…”  
“If you would like it to be”

Countess DeThaum’s breath was cold against Hollandaises throat. The woman was long dead after all, her lungs moving only due to force of habit, or perhaps will, a way to pretend she was still among the living. For the Huntress, or for herself, Hollandaise wasn’t sure.

Arms, far longer than any humans, all sinew and muscle, covered in long soft strands of white hair that seemed to catch the moonlight just a little, clutched her tighter, long claws poked at her skin through her clothing, but did not pierce it. Her stake did, pushed through the tight black vest, the deep crimson shirt, the pale white skin, a trickle of cold red blood staining them all, running down the its length onto her hands.

The teeth were closer now. Close enough to-

“Have you ever been this close, to a creature of the night before?”

Her breath was so cold...and those lips, thin and black, the ones that had curled into a frail smile when Hollandaise had entered the throne room, now brushed against the skin of her neck. It was all the huntress could do not to shiver, to keep her stance firm as steel, ready to strike, when the moment came. She was a Huntress. She’d done this before, made her name slaying undead across the land, creatures far more powerful and cunning than this…

Than this…

“Are you trying to hypnotize me? I’m trained against it.”

“Come now, we both know that requires eye contact. And my eyes are busy staring at the thick pretty neck of the thick pretty woman with a stake against my heart. I’m merely curious, in these final moments. Indulge me, huntress.”

Hollandaise felt a twitch resonate through the stake, a heart beating against its tip. It wouldn’t take more than a slight push to pierce it, to end this. When the moment was right. Which wasn’t now. For whatever reason, it didn’t feel right to end it now.

She had this. What was the harm in a little indulgence. A little fun. In these final moments.

“...not usually like this, no. That’s what my Cross Bow is for. Keeping my distance. When I need to.”

Long clawed fingers moved to stroke the huge weapon mounted on the Huntresses back. They were pulled a tiny bit closer. More cold sticky blood. More twitching of the heart beneath her stake. Why was she making it beat? Was she being mocked? Goaded?

“Ah, this lovely little weapon of yours. Made from a holy cross, infused with garlic and blessed water, firing bolts of wood gilded with silver...you even have this curious mechanism to set the bolts alight after they’re launched. It’s so...thorough, almost like a work of art…”

There was nothing but genuine admiration in the vampire's voice, as she stroked the weapon lightly, stroked Hollandaise lightly, her huge claws brushing against wood and silver and cloth with surprising delicacy. Hollandaise had expected condescension, but here wasn't a hint of it, in that cold tense voice. Hollandaise had expected the sizzle of those claws burning too, as they met the enchanted wood, was ready to move as soon as the Countess recoiled...but there wasn’t a hint of that either. She couldn’t see her back, but it had to be a trick, some sleight of hand. She’d seen undead burn while trying to grab her weapon, she’d beaten one to death with it once, watched it bubble and melt under each blow. This MUST be a trick. The alternative was too....it wasn’t worth acknowledging. Hollandaise wasn’t scared.

Here , in these beastial claws, with a vampires teeth so close to her neck, pulled so very tight by the Countess. Hollandaise was not scared.

Shouldn’t she be?

“Why didn’t you use it tonight?”

Ah. There was a question, one Hollandaise had asked herself a dozen times tonight, sneaking through the moonlit castle halls, through the fields of flowers that had erupted from within the stone. Tonights hunt was unusual. There was too much life in the castle, too much light, moonlight pouring in through every window, curtains drawn back or torn down. And no sign of any thralls or servants anywhere.

It didn’t make sense. Vampires normally accrued slaves without a thought, a helpful byproduct of their feeding process. But then, Hollandaise had found no evidence that the Countess fed at all, not among any of the towns over which her mountain home loomed. Not like her predecessor, the previous Count DeThaum, slain quietly and without fanfare some years ago (By whom, Hollandaise had yet to discover). No mysterious deaths or disappearances (at least, none that hadn’t been solved and revealed to be unrelated quickly, another strange thing.), no demands for tithes of blood, no midnight attempts to whisk people away. There were rumors of course, that she fed in subtler ways, that every minor illness or blight was rooted in The Countess. Even some that claimed she was once a quiet village boy, that she was no Count-ess at all, that she merely took the guise to seduce and humiliate menfolk. Hollandaise had heard THAT story before, about former Brides she had freed in the past, taken in by pacts and promises to be recognized as who they truly were, and was not reluctant to scold anyone spreading that kind of backwards talk. The world was overfull of monsters already. It did not need men filling the role of another.

In the end there was only one reason she’d walked into the throne room, stake drawn, instead of firing it surreptitiously through a window. Only one reason she hesitated to thrust her stake forward just a fraction. Only one reason she replied, to the Countess, the woman,the creature almost a head shorter than her, her body lithe, the curve of her breasts and her hips ever so slight, her long white hair so expertly cared for, even where it grew from her neck and her arms, fluttering like ribbons in the breeze.

“I was curious. Not curious enough to die for it.” She tightened her grip on the stake ever so slightly, flexing her fingers, the sound of tightening leather on wood a sign of her resolve. “But Curious.”

The icy breath on her neck became shallow, tighter. Many long seconds passed before the Countess replied, her voice frail and stiff. Like a thin sheet of ice over a deep lake, always just a single step away from shattering.

“I’m just another Monster miss Sunday. What’s there to be curious about?”

“You know my name?”

“By reputation, mostly. The unconventional Heroine who makes sport of the most ancient and fearsome undead. The kind with armies and magiks and fortresses and all those nasty little tricks to cheat their own ends again and again. And here you are, stake against the heart of a pathetic creature one year your junior, no tricks, no allies, who you could kill without a thought. Hesitating. What about me could be so curious as to still that practiced hand of yours?”

There was a tiny crack at the end. Almost imperceptible. But there. Threatening to plunge them both into the darkness beneath. Into...what? The final blow? Something worse, some trick, some scheme to turn this in The Countesses favor?

Hollandaise shouldn’t have hesitated.

Hollandaise shouldn’t be so calm right now.

Hollandaise shouldn’t have kept talking

Hollandaise shouldn’t be starting to feel…

There were a lot of things Hollandaise was thinking she shouldn’t be doing, as she did them, as she assured herself that it would just take one thrust. Just one twitch. Just one thought, to end it.

“I-”

Hesitation again  
“-I was curious how you fed, If it’s on anyone nearby, you hide it well.”

A soft icy chuckle. And then another curiosity. The countess moved her head, away from Hollandaises neck, in front of Hollandaises eyes, her face downcast, her grip still tight. Still dangerous, with those claws, with her speed, Though Holly knew she was quicker. But now before her. White hair and a pale brow gently bumped against the huntresses chin.

“Oh...that trick...it’s nothing special. No doubt you’ve experienced firsthand the ability of my kind to enthrall beasts. I just got a little more creative with it than most. Mosquitoes. Each one harmlessly, silently extracting just a drop of blood every night for me to partake in. A pretty little system. Nothing special.”

“So you don’t-”

“I don’t kill Anymore. It took time to get here. Time I can’t take back. Lives I can’t give back, no matter how wickedly they were lived. My hands are not clean of blood, Hollandaise Sundae, just as yours are now sticky with mine. So, why do you hesitate?”

 

“Why bother being nice about it in the first place?”

The Countesses whole body was tense now, even her wandering claws had gone stiff on the huntress back, digging new holes into the protective leather of her silver lined vest, poking at her skin through her dark ruffled blouse Her reply came quickly, bitterly, each word spat like a bullet down into Hollandaise's chest.

“A whim maybe. It doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything. Answer my question.why do you hesitate?”

“Why do you care?”

 

The heartbeat resonated through her stake, hands, arms, body. Heavy, desperate. As if it yearned to be pierced, to thrust itself upon the wooden spike.

But now wasn't the time for that. Now wasn't the moment. Ever so slightly Hollandaise shifted backwards a fraction back, into the stiff claws, her stance remaining as steel, her grip iron, her aim true. Waiting for a reply. Waiting for the moment. It came as a whisper. Snowflakes on cracked ice. Building up bit by bit to shatter it all.

“...you're getting my blood all over that pretty blouse. I'd hate to keep you overlong and leave a stain..”

It was true of course. Holly could feel the damp cold of it seeping through under her gloves and vest. Not burning away when it met the silver as it should. But right now that didn't matter. There was something happening. Something that Hollandaise didn't understand, something she doubted the countess understood either. Something more than curiosity

One year her junior. That would match up with what she'd heard, of the missing village “boy”. Only a few years as an undead...and so quickly she’d found ways to live without hurting others. So quickly had she turned this cursed keep into a place of quiet beauty…

So quickly had she leapt from her throne to place a stake before her heart.

Now it wasn't just her grip and her stance that were solid as steel. Hollandaise, for whatever reason, pity, fear, sympathy, now tempered her words with it too. No matter what, the faint beating of the heart beneath her stake told her that she had this. The faint beating of her heart within her chest told her that she had this. 

“Why do you want it to end this way?”

Hollandaise would never be sure, never after this moment, whether those were the right words. Even as she heard the soft sound of something breaking in the countesses breath, the cracks that ran deep in every word that followed. Even as that small head came to lie upon her chest, shivering ever so slightly.

“...because I never asked for this. Never asked for the old count to make the mistake of choosing someone like me, the night I felt brave enough to wear a dress outside, to make a bride. Never asked to have him try to kill me when he found out who I was. Never asked to be the one to rip him apart and throw him to the sunlight, watch him burn to nothing. Or to do the same to his servants. Or to hunt down his allies, some human still, to make sure he never came back. Never asked to be so good at killing and murdering that it nearly devoured me. That it will again one day, as we both know. Because this is the only way I have to ask not to be a monster any more.”

The countess looked up, her red eyes dry of tears. Her black lips quivering. Her white hair almost glowing in the moonlight, then quickly buried her face again, in the warmth of Hollandaises chest. 

“You're gallant. And pretty. What better way to escape than by such a perfect heroines hand? To add another tiny bit of shine to your legend. To do a bit of good. Even though I'm so wicked.”

Hollandaise felt the small sob against her breast. Just a sad and solitary droplet of the lake of darkness beneath the rapidly shattering ice. A sign of what was to come.

A sign that there was no turning back. 

“No.”

Her grip remained steel. Her aim true. But this was her resolve now. A chain of steel thrown to the center of this crumbling frozen lake. That it might rescue the countess. If only she would grab on.

“...you'll regret this…”

“That's for me to decide”

“..it doesn't change what I am..”

“I don't think what you are needs to change”

“You'll never be able to trust me” crack, a big one now, perhaps the last before the true fall. “We will always be as fang and stake. Always prey and huntress”

Hollandaise, with steel in her heart, removed one hand from her stake. Slowly, delicately, tensely, she moved it to the long white hair that tickled her chin and spilled over her chest. And stroked it

“We don't have to be. Right now it feels like we’re just two women. Two women alone under the moonlight. Two women who can make their own choices. Two women who could be…”

Quiet. A long quiet as she thought the next word over in her head, again and again, carefully, despite the tiny ragged breathing against her. Despite the blood staining her clothes. Despite the whining of her muscles, tensed for so long.

“...friends”

The silence before the reply lasted for what seemed an eternity. The breeze died. The flowers stilled The crickets seemed to hold their breath in anticipation, just as Hollandaise did.

And then a chuckle, wet and yearning, almost like the countess was drowning and gasping for air. Hollandaise felt her lips shift, felt her smile against the leather. Felt cold tears mingle with cold blood on her skin.

“...friends? You truly think...well let me tell you something then...as a friend. About these superstitious trinkets and weapons of yours. A little secret just for us. In these final moments.”

Countess DeThaums arms tightened their hold and thrust the two women together. Hollandaise's grip was steel. Her aim was true.

The two collapsed together to the floor, as silence fled the world. As Hollandaise opened her mouth to...yell or scream or SOMETHING, something that wouldn't come out, would never come out, as she expected the countess to become dust in her arms.

The countess did not become dust in her arms. Not as she squeezed the two of them together. Not as the tears and blood continued to stain them both. Not as the countess whispered into her chest.

“...It's not the items that are important. It's you're resolve. They only...work if you want them to…”

There was a storm that night. One without thunder or lightning or howling winds. One that did not disturb the chirps of crickets and the rustling of flowers. A private little storm that two women would now weather together.

That night, lilies bloomed within the throne room, born from blood and tears. Catching the moonlight.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so! this is a silly little uh, fic i wrote about an AU version of some tabletop characters of mine (hence the, kinds of silly names) a while back to work out of a pretty miserable place that I thought I'd upload just to add something new to my uh, portfolio? on here after so long. Not particularly based off anything, I have a very poor understanding of vampire stuff so its just a couple of dumb ideas you've probably seen a thousand times before. idk. anyway, uh, I hope you, enjoyed, I might upload some more original work later if I feel confident enough in it? anyway thanks for! reading!


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